


pseudoscience

by honeysigh



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, the author projects onto chanhee for an entire fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27551002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysigh/pseuds/honeysigh
Summary: Sunwoo gives him a cheeky smile when he pulls away. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too, hyung. Everything I do for you is completely unconditional, so don't feel bad for imposing whenever you need something, okay?”“Well,” Chanhee sighs, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. “I'll try to remember that.”(In which Chanhee has a migraine condition, and Sunwoo only ever wants to help.)
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Kim Sunwoo
Comments: 17
Kudos: 135





	pseudoscience

**Author's Note:**

> i think i started this fic like two days ago and then didn't let up, which is hilarious to think about because one would Think i'd take a little more care with my tbzfic debut but no... i'm impatient.
> 
> in all seriousness i'm super excited to be a txtbz fan!! i just got fully into them this october post-stealer era and safe to say i'm obsessed, and sunnew... cutest ship ever oh my goodness. 
> 
> however i will say that this fic is a total self-projection semi-ventfic about migraines and what it means to have someone who can hold your hand through your # struggles. nothing graphic is ever depicted, but the migraine descriptions May give you phantom pains if you've experienced them before (i say this bc i got a migraine in the middle of writing LMAO)
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!

It creeps up on him slowly but surely. A wave gathering momentum until there’s enough of it to cause a tsunami, and Chanhee nearly drops his graduated cylinder full of very harmful chemicals as he sits down hard, heart in his throat as his head pounds.

“Dude, don't drop it,” Changmin hisses, though his lab partner seems to realize something's wrong almost immediately. “You okay, Chanhee?”

“Just peachy,” he mutters, carefully setting the graduated cylinder down on the table. “I think I just—need a minute.”

“Okay,” Changmin says, considering him for a moment. “I’ll handle things for a bit.”

Chanhee gives him a tight smile in response, staring down hard at the table. 

The truth is, guilt is already starting to eat at him from the inside out. Not because he’s taking a moment to breathe, but because he knows this is the kind of thing that _will_ incapacitate him after some time. Meaning he won’t be able to help Changmin, who had spent thirty minutes prior to class freaking out over the complexity of the lab they’re doing today. _Fuck_.

Maybe he can send him notes, or ask the professor if they can hold off on finishing the lab until after Chanhee’s head isn’t busy trying to kill him. He thinks back to when he’d tried that in another class and failed, sighing as he shakes his head. “Changmin-ah,” he says quietly, and he hears Changmin stop flipping through his notebook.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I can continue for much longer,” he admits, and every word feels stuck in his throat in the worst way. “Um, migraine.”

Changmin doesn’t say anything for a moment. Everything around Chanhee feels muted, his heartbeat in his skull already as he tries to steady his breathing. “That’s fine,” his friend says after a moment. “You’re allowed to leave if you don’t feel well, Chanhee.”

“But this lab is complex,” Chanhee points out. “I should stay and try to help out until I absolutely can’t. It’s not that bad right now so I’ll show you how to do the rest, and—”

“Oh, no,” Changmin says firmly. “I’m not letting you run yourself into the ground for a stupid organic chemistry lab, Chanhee. I’ll handle things as best I can, and I’ll ask Younghoon hyung for help if I need any, okay? Go get some rest.”

Chanhee wants to scream even as he gives in. “Fine,” he mutters. “Don’t blow anything up while I’m gone, okay?”

“I won’t,” Changmin says, exasperated. “Feel better soon!”

He ignores the strange looks students give him as he packs his things up with his eyes mostly-closed, trudging out of the class.

Trying to quell the shame and frustration is impossible as he exits the science building. It’s like this every time—everyone around Chanhee always reminds him that his migraines aren’t something he should be angry at, but he doesn’t really give a shit. It’s too easy to offer condolences for something you’ve never experienced, and his migraines _do_ get in the way… all. The damn. Time.

So sue him for being pissed off as he stares at the ground while he walks back to his apartment.

It’s already getting bad. It started off as a subtle _thump thump thump_ that mimicked his heartbeat at the back of his skull, and Chanhee isn’t stupid—he knew what it would grow into in a few hour’s time. When he rummaged through his backpack for his medications, he groaned when he realized he’d left them at home _again_. 

Now it’s like his body is fighting against any sign of physical exertion, his heart racing and his head pounding with it. He calls them heartbeat migraines, and they usually like to make the appearance when he’s dehydrated or stressed out. If he didn’t live so close to campus, he would seriously worry about passing out on the walk home. Instead, he determinedly steadies his breath as he walks, thankful for the peaceful air of early afternoon keeping him somewhat sane. Except his migraine aura turns everything into a distorted, ugly orange, and it makes him a little sick staring at something for too long.

Chanhee counts his heartbeats to pass the time until he falls into a trance, his steps leading him to the apartment he shares with Sunwoo. It’s only then when he remembers their elevator is broken, and they live on the fifth floor.

“Fucking hell,” he hisses as he climbs the stairs, willing his body to live with it. “I hate it here, I really do.”

By the time he’s on his floor, his head is pounding so hard he has to lean on the wall for support, his vision swimming. He prays no one’s walking around as he practically stumbles to his apartment, head against the door as he rummages through his pocket for the keys. 

When he’s let inside, shutting the door behind him, Sunwoo is nowhere to be found. For some reason this is what makes him crack as he slides down to the ground, tearing up as he presses his hands to his eyes. An important lab, missed now because his head decided to say _fuck it_. And his boyfriend won’t be home for a few hours, and...

 _Grow up_ , he tells himself, even as his throat closes up around his heartbeat, raging and pulsing and taking over completely. _Just take your meds and go nap for a few hours_.

He manages to drag himself to his nightstand and bed, where he pops a few tablets into his mouth dry. The pain is busy overtaking him completely when he climbs into bed, and he only realizes he’s actually crying when he squeezes his eyes shut. 

That’s how he falls asleep—frustrated, and teary-eyed. He doesn’t dream.

`pseu·do·sci·ence ( _noun):_ a collection of beliefs or practices mistakenly regarded as being based on scientific method.`

When he wakes up, it’s dark outside, and he hears the distinct sound of humming before anything.

That’s how he always wakes up after a migraine attack. It’s like some fucked up version of sleep paralysis; his senses come to him before his body’s ability to actually move does, pinned down by the weight of pure exhaustion. His eyes sting from unshed tears dried over the course of a few hours, and his head is still pounding, but it’s muted. This is the problem with his medications. They never ease, only numb the pain for a little while. 

He gives a frustrated sigh, and the humming stops. “Hyung?” Sunwoo says softly. “You awake?”

“Unfortunately,” Chanhee manages to croak out, refusing to turn over.

“I just got home,” his boyfriend says, “and Younghoon hyung texted me saying Changmin hyung told him you had to leave class early.” He pauses, and Chanhee immediately registers the guilt in his voice as he says, “Sorry I couldn’t get home earlier. My professor is a bitch, and—”

“It’s fine,” Chanhee says quickly. Fondness bubbles up in his chest even as guilt starts to eat at him again. He flexes his toes and then turns over slowly, until he sees his boyfriend framed against the warm glow of their lamp, his red hair fiery as he gives Chanhee a quiet, careful look. 

It’s soft. _Too_ soft. Chanhee prides their relationship on being one with zero (0) soft moments, sans the times Chanhee has rambled to Juyeon about how sweet Sunwoo is to him (and has sworn Juyeon to complete secrecy, so his boyfriend will _never_ know). “Sunwoo, I’m okay. Stop looking at me like that.”

Sunwoo scrunches his nose up as he laughs, shaking his head. “Aish, whatever you say,” he says, crouching down to plug his laptop into the charger before he stands up again. “D’you think you can get out of bed for dinner? I ordered food before I even got home, so it should be here any minute now.”

“Bless your heart,” Chanhee says emphatically, and Sunwoo snickers. “I can get out of bed though, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Sunwoo says. When Chanhee doesn’t move to sit up, he raises an eyebrow. “...Um, are you sure, hyung?”

“Yeah,” Chanhee says. “Don’t worry about me.”

He silently wills Sunwoo to leave the room so he can take his sweet time forcing his body to cooperate with him. Of course, because Sunwoo is a menace, his boyfriend just stands there, his eyes gradually narrowing until he purses his lips and says, “I think you need help getting up.”

“I _don’t_ ,” Chanhee says hotly, even as he frustratedly huffs when he realizes the fatigue isn’t going to get better soon enough for him to convince his boyfriend otherwise.

“I think you do,” Sunwoo says. “So I’m gonna help you, hyung, thank you very much.”

Chanhee wants to tell him to let him do it on his own, but he can’t help but feel grateful when his boyfriend cradles a careful hand behind his head and sits him up gently, concerned eyes glossed over with amusement when Chanhee crosses his arms. “There we go, hyung,” he says, and then he tilts his chin up to kiss him, and Chanhee swears the leftover pain eases on its own when Sunwoo presses his lips to his.

Sunwoo always likes to kiss him like it’s their last day on earth, near-bruising with how eagerly he shows his want. It has Chanhee clutching at his shoulders, getting the air kissed out of him before he has to lean back and gasp, “D-dizzy.”

“Sorry,” Sunwoo giggles, pressing his lips to his forehead. “You just look too good to resist.”

Chanhee flushes. “Will you stop that? I look like shit right now, I’m sure.”

Sunwoo pats his cheek condescendingly, laughing when Chanhee glares at him. “Yeah, yeah. You keep saying that to yourself, hyung.” The doorbell rings and his eyes brighten. “I’ll get the food!”

Chanhee watches him leave, rubbing his arms. He feels strangely cold, groaning when he realizes it’s because Sunwoo is a living human furnace. Fuck him and his strange ability to ease any ailment Chanhee’s suffering through.

He loves him dearly.

Either way he knows he needs to get up on his own soon or else he’ll be stuck in bed for the rest of the night and likely through the half of the next morning. It takes a while of steadying himself carefully and evening his breaths before he finds the energy to stand, and immediately has to resist the urge to sit back down again as his vision goes spotty. Okay, so the medications really didn’t help at all. He wants to scream, but then Sunwoo pokes his head back into their room and says, “Oh! Wanna come out to the dining room?”

Chanhee purses his lips. “Yeah, just give me a minute.” Then he shakes his head, exhaustion forcing him to cave in all too easily. “I take it back. Can you walk me there?”

“Of course,” Sunwoo says cheerily, and when he steps inside the room he wraps Chanhee up in a warm hug. “Still hurts, huh,” he murmurs, kissing his cheek.

“Yeah,” Chanhee says softly, trying not to choke up. He’s just— _frustrated_. Tired of how frequent these migraines have been recently because of his brutal schedule, and wanting so badly to ease the pain and pressure that it only ever makes him sad.

“You can cry,” Sunwoo whispers, and Chanhee buries his face in his boyfriend’s neck. “I’m sorry, hyung. It must be stressful. I… I wanna help.”

 _You help me just by being here_ , Chanhee wants to say, but the lump in his throat prevents him from doing so. Instead he wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and hopes to whatever deities exist that Sunwoo will understand, because he does. He always does.

After a few minutes that feel as though they stretch into hours, Sunwoo says, “Do you think eating will help, hyung?”

“Probably,” Chanhee says. “Then I’ll email my professor, text Changmin and go back to sleep.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Sunwoo says, pressing their foreheads together before he takes Chanhee’s hand. “Let’s get some food in your system.”

Chanhee lets himself be led, trying his hardest to fight against the small, angry piece of him that always gets mad when Sunwoo takes care of Chanhee, instead of the other way around. It’s fine. It’s _fine_. He’ll sleep it off, and loves Sunwoo too much to be much more than deeply grateful anyway.

This is how it's been for the past almost eleven months.

Really, his migraines have been here for much longer than that, but he means—dealing with his migraines _with_ Sunwoo, who is unapologetically supportive of his every move, even when Chanhee's migraine personality for the day consists of easy frustration and back hugging Sunwoo so much the younger boy can't get much done with how much he's dragging Chanhee around the apartment. Though he endures it while laughing all the way, so Chanhee doesn't really think much of it.

In reality, his migraines have stuck around since he was a little kid. Some of his earliest memories are ones where he was repeatedly forced to curl up on the couch, a pillow over his face as his parents spoke in hushed, worried tones in the background about his _condition_. Six years old, and forced to trudge home because his head could no longer take him playing outside. Twelve years old and squinting at his new phone late into the night until his head hurt so bad it felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. Seventeen years old and nearly blacking out in the middle of a car drive home.

And now here he is, unable to make it to class because of the same thing he's suffered through for _years_. It frustrates him to no end.

“Hyung, it isn't a big deal to me,” Sunwoo says the next morning, lips pursed as he watches Chanhee make breakfast for the two of them. “It's, like, not your fault.” Then he sighs. “I say this all the time and you never listen, of course.”

“Because it's not true, logically,” Chanhee says. He doesn't even bother to turn around and face Sunwoo properly, though he snorts when he hears his boyfriend groan in exasperation. “Sunwoo, come _on_. I don't think it's hard to understand that rationally, I should be able to push through. Or at least have the resources to push through. For example, these stupid medications? They don't fucking work.”

“I know that,” Sunwoo sighs. “I'm not saying you should be expected to keep up with the pace of the world. Actually, that's unrealistic as fuck. I _am_ saying that it isn't your fault that you can't keep up, when nothing in the world ever actually accommodates _for_ you, you know?”

“Yeah, well,” Chanhee mutters. “Doesn't matter anymore, because I feel much better.”

Sunwoo scoffs. “And when we're in the same spot in a few days?”

Chanhee doesn't respond. Sunwoo must realize he's accidentally hit a sore spot, because then he says, “Sorry, hyung.”

“It's fine,” Chanhee sighs. “I'm not mad. You're wrong about it not being my fault, though, at least somewhat. I forgot my meds, didn't hydrate, didn't eat...” he winces when he turns around with the pan full of food to see Sunwoo giving him a concerned look. “Sorry. You know I'm not always like that, it was just a stressful day.”

“I'm sure it was,” Sunwoo says gently. “But almost every Monday since we've started the semester, you've been having similar headache attacks. It’s only gotten bad enough this time around that you had to go home, but like, it still sucks to watch you go through it.”

Chanhee gives him a wry smile. “What can I say? Lab classes will do that to you. Maybe if you were a nursing student like me you'd understand.”

Sunwoo rolls his eyes. “Oh, don't start with that bullshit again. If you had to stare at music notes all day long you'd end up hospitalized.”

“Why don't you do that to yourself,” Chanhee says sweetly, as he plates Sunwoo's food. “And then I'll be the nurse that takes care of you, hm?”

He leans over to drop a kiss on Sunwoo's cheek, laughing when his boyfriend blushes. He's always had a strange thing for Chanhee taking care of him the way a nurse would. Chanhee doesn't bother asking questions, because he _really_ doesn't want to know.

They met in the orientation for new freshmen. Back when Chanhee used to work as a tour guide for their college campus, he'd gotten Sunwoo in his group. Looked down at the name to read it out loud, and then looked up to see the boy stepping forward into his circle before thinking one thing to himself: _hm, he’s really fucking cute_.

“You know,” Kevin once told him contemplatively, after returning from his own tour of mid-semester hopefuls. “I really, really wish you tripped over yourself while looking at him as you were walking. Would've been such a lovely origin story, in my opinion.”

“Me? Tripping over myself?” Chanhee said incredulously, throwing a fry at his friend's head. “I would never be this pathetic, are you kidding me?”

In fact, Chanhee was the only tour guide to walk backwards flawlessly, which is something he took unnecessary pride in. But that isn't the point. The point is, Sunwoo stuck to him like glue, and embarrassingly quickly.

Part of it was because they shared friend groups. It's unsurprising to Chanhee, that Sunwoo already had a solid friend group going into college, but the fact that it somehow overlapped with his made him raise an eyebrow. Sunwoo's friend Eric was best friends with Juyeon, who had been friends with Chanhee for years, since early high school. Small world, really.

He supposes the Too Long; Didn't Read of this falls to the way Sunwoo has been aware of Chanhee's migraines since the beginning.

It started because of a stupid move on Chanhee's part. Sunwoo asked him out for coffee hopefully after a meet-up between their friends, and Chanhee—normally easy to say no, content with keeping most at a distance if they didn't already know him for years—gave it a shot, nodding his assent. Except life works in cruel ways, because the next day he woke up with a tension headache so bad it made his teeth grind together with how much pressure he felt around his skull, like a tight metal band was trying to snap bone. Yet, for some reason he decided to go anyway, unwilling to cancel plans last-minute.

He regretted it instantly, because Sunwoo could tell his heart wasn't in the mini date. “I'm sorry if you didn't want to come,” he said only half an hour in, and Chanhee sighed.

“It's not that,” he said. “Uh, I just... have a migraine.”

Sunwoo peered at him. “Wait, then why are you here, hyung?”

Chanhee narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean? I'm used to them.”

“Well, sure, but—” The look in Sunwoo's eyes was genuinely curious, like he couldn't believe Chanhee would even waste his time. “You totally could've just been like, _can we do this some other time, I don't feel well_ , right? I dunno.” Then he shrugged, sipping at his hot chocolate. Through the pain, Chanhee registered how endearing he looked with his red sweater paws and wide, earnest eyes, and thought _I'm fucked_. “Honestly, I'd rather talk to you when you have enough energy to talk.”

“You're right,” Chanhee said slowly. Then, just to be annoying—“Why don't you be a gentleman for your hyung and walk him home, then?”

“You don't even need to ask! I was gonna already,” Sunwoo admitted, helping Chanhee stand.

Not to say he was surprised Sunwoo said yes (He's used to the attention, to be honest), but the genuineness of his every move took him aback. So much so that he would have probably doubted Sunwoo's sincerity... except he's pretty sure that's physically impossible. Also, he isn't insecure.

“If you aren't insecure then why did you think about it?” Sunwoo points out now, and Chanhee threatens to throw his plate at him. Sunwoo freaks out and ducks before he realizes Chanhee isn't going to do anything to him, and then he scowls. “Hey! I was just joking, hyung.”

“You're such a baby,” Chanhee laughs, shaking his head as he finishes his food. He checks the time—an hour and a half until his only class of the day, one focused on healthcare teamwork. If he wants to walk leisurely to the nursing building, he'll have to leave soon. “Okay, I'm gonna get ready to head out now. Can I _please_ trust you to wash the damn dishes?”

“Hm,” Sunwoo teases. “We'll see. I'm _kidding_ ,” his boyfriend squeaks when Chanhee slaps him upside the head. “Oh my god, you're too much, hyung.”

“You love me,” Chanhee laughs.

“I do,” Sunwoo mutters, and Chanhee gives him a sweet smile as he lifts Sunwoo's plate up to put in the sink.

When he gives his boyfriend one last glance right before heading off to their room, he has to stop for a moment just to watch him. He's got his chin propped up in a hand as he scrolls through his phone. Chanhee is pretty sure that's Juyeon's black sweater, because it's _huge_ on him, falling down his tan thighs, and when he snickers as he types something out, Chanhee can't help it—he marches up to his boyfriend and pulls him into a quick kiss, ignoring the startled gasp he gives out as he parts his lips with a quick tongue.

“You're so hot,” he whispers against his mouth, running a hand through his hair, and Sunwoo whimpers when he presses a kiss to his jaw. “And so good to me.”

“What's all this about?” Sunwoo laughs, though his voice is shaky.

“Just think you deserve to hear it,” Chanhee says plainly. “I mean, really. You're a dream. I won't say this again, by the way. But thank you for taking care of me, even when I suck at asking for it myself.”

Sunwoo gives him a cheeky smile when he pulls away, though Chanhee can't take him seriously with a blush high on his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too, hyung. Everything I do for you is completely unconditional, so don't feel bad for imposing whenever you need something, okay?”

“Well,” Chanhee sighs, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. “I'll try to remember that.”

“As long as you try,” Sunwoo hums. Then he shoves his boyfriend away playfully. “Alright, can you leave me the hell alone now? I'm trying to make fun of Eric.”

“Of course you are,” Chanhee snorts. He leaves the apartment contented anyway, and hoping so badly that he doesn't have to experience another migraine in the near future—doesn't have to put Sunwoo through the task of hovering over him until the pain faded of its own accord—that he's pretty sure he's given himself a mini headache by the time he makes it to his class.

Except good things don't say good for long. An incredibly depressing catch phrase and all, but it's true. By the time midterms roll around, Chanhee's crossed off an alarming amount of days in his migraine calendar, to the point where Sunwoo gives it one look one cloudy Wednesday afternoon and says, “Hyung, have you ever thought about getting this checked out?”

Chanhee, in the middle of gulping down a glass of water as another heartbeat migraine creeps up on him, pauses to say, “Hm, not really.”

Sunwoo gapes at him in horror. “...You're kidding, right? You can't be serious, hyung. That's so worrying.”

“Of course I'm kidding,” Chanhee scoffs. “I used to spend so much time at the hospital. But it's only ever a temporary solution.” He doesn't tell his boyfriend that he also despises going to the hospital. He spends enough time in one as a nursing student.

“You're a nursing student, hyung,” Sunwoo says, reading his mind. “I know you hate being at the hospital for longer than necessary, but still? Also—don't you have, like, nursing student friends?”

“Yeah,” Chanhee says dryly. “I do, in fact, have nursing student friends.”

“And not one of them has ever brought it up as something you should be concerned about?” Sunwoo says incredulously.

“I don't normally tell people I get migraines,” he says honestly. “I just let them figure it out on their own, even when I have to leave class in the middle of a lecture or demonstration. It's not like it's something people need to know about me.”

“I want you to know that the only reason why I'm not shaking you by the shoulders right now is because your head would kill you in retaliation,” Sunwoo sighs. “But hyung, I'm being serious when I say we should go to the campus clinic, at the very least. Maybe they can help? You're always complaining about how your medications don't work, and—”

“It's fine,” Chanhee cuts in, wanting to get the conversation over with already. “I can take another one of these migraines. I'm sure it builds character.”

“You're so fucking _stubborn,_ hyung,” Sunwoo says in awe. “Like, wow. I'd admire you if it weren't fucking impossible to take care of you.”

 _Because I don't want you to have to take care of me_. Instead of letting that embarrassing statement slip out, he rolls his eyes (a stupid move on his part, because his head immediately protests) and says, “Whatever. Can I work on my homework now?”

Sunwoo stays quiet for one long moment. “No?” He says after a moment, and Chanhee looks up at him with raised eyebrows. “I don't think I'll let you do that, actually?”

And then he has the audacity to take Chanhee's laptop and slide it away from the counter, to his end. Chanhee gapes at him. “You did not just do that,” he says.

“I did,” Sunwoo says confidently. “I did just do that.”

“Sunwoo,” Chanhee says, voice dangerously low, and Sunwoo doesn't even flinch. “Give me back my laptop. I have a lab report due tonight.”

“Already asked Changmin hyung to ask your teaching assistant to give you an extension until next week for health purposes,” Sunwoo says cheerily, and Chanhee gapes at him even as his vision starts to go spotty from his headache, pissing him off further.

“Look,” Chanhee says, trying to steady himself as he closes his eyes. “I just—it's okay if we wait. I don't mind waiting until midterms are over, but right now I have—I just have a lot of work to do, and it's kind of stressing me out, and I don't think going to the h-hospital would help me out very much—”

“Hyung,” Sunwoo says quietly, soothingly, and Chanhee squeezes his eyes shut tight as he realizes his boyfriend is talking to him the way someone would to a cornered animal. “I know you're stressed out. I am too, but I think it would be better for you to get this checked out at the very least. I don't want you to, like, pass out in the middle of an exam, you know?”

Okay, that makes sense. Chanhee sighs.

Sunwoo seems to pick up on his resolve quickly caving, because he says, “Hyungie, please? I'll do anything you want for a day. Literally anything.”

Chanhee tries and fails to suppress a small smile. “Anything?”

“Yeah, anything,” Sunwoo agrees. “Which, like, I'll probably regret in a few hours, but I mean it now.”

“Hm, that's a compelling argument you're making there,” Chanhee says contemplatively, and blinks his eyes open to see Sunwoo, hopeful and running a hand through his freshly-dyed black hair. An impulsive midterm stress-induced decision, he'd told him when Chanhee had come home to his boyfriend staring in the mirror doubtfully. He'd even cut it a little bit, and it somehow makes him even cuter than he already is.

 _Yikes, you're whipped_ , he thinks to himself, and his heart stumbles in his chest, breaking character for a brief moment from its relentless pounding against his ribcage. Then his body retaliates by intensifying the pain after the swoop in his stomach, and he groans as he puts his head in his hands.

“Hyung?” Sunwoo asks after a moment, sounding worried again. “You okay?”

“I'm fine,” Chanhee sighs, and then he stops. “Wait, no I'm not.”

“Oh my god, are you finally realizing this isn't normal?” Sunwoo gasps.

Chanhee glares at his boyfriend. “Will you shut up? I... I think we should go to the clinic, though. But if they try to move me to the hospital or anything, I won't go.”

“Alright, I can vibe with that,” Sunwoo says, clapping his hands together. That’s one thing Chanhee can appreciate about the way Sunwoo handles situations—he always approaches things with a single-minded kind of determination, but makes everything seem casual and easy, like a walk in the park. “Let's go before it gets dark, okay?”

Chanhee gives a resigned sigh, taking his boyfriend's hands and standing up slowly. “Sounds good.”

Sunwoo leads the way. He always does.

They don't force Chanhee to go to the hospital.

“To be fair, it's not like anyone could force you to do anything,” Sunwoo says as they're grabbing coffee for the morning. Well. Coffee for Sunwoo and tea for Chanhee, who can't drink coffee anymore as mandated by the nurse who had taken one look at his roughly outlined diet and shook her head, disappointed.

“You're absolutely right,” Chanhee says, smug. “Look at how well you've learned.”

Sunwoo punches him in the arm lightly, which of course results in Chanhee smacking him way harder than necessary. His boyfriend yelps, attracting the eyes of other customers, and Chanhee laughs when he sheepishly bows his head in apology. “You're evil, hyung,” he whines.

“It makes me sexy, don't you think?” Chanhee says simply.

“Absolutely,” Sunwoo agrees, and then he presses his lips into a thin line. “...I don't like how you've conditioned me into that.”

“You're too easy,” Chanhee laughs. They grab their drinks, making to leave. “Anyway. I should say thank you for pushing me to go to the clinic, though.”

It really was helpful, and Chanhee's mildly annoyed at himself for not giving in sooner. The nurse practitioner there (Chanhee's end goal in terms of job prospects, so he'd been a little starry-eyed) prescribed him a new set of medications, and Sunwoo had gone with him to the pharmacy to pick them up. He's only tested them out once or twice, and the improvement is palpable.

He's also trying to get better at self-care, though it's too soon to say how that's been going. He doesn't mind, though. His midterms are almost done, and it's nearly been a year since he started dating Sunwoo, and, well.

Things are as good as they'll get, for the most part. And they've always been that way, it's just—his migraines are always way too good at getting in the way of him acknowledging that, ruining his days completely without mercy.

“I feel like I should say it again,” Sunwoo says, cutting in through his thoughts. “As if I don't say it enough already, y'know, but still. I don't want you to feel bad that I have to hover over you sometimes. And, um, I hope it doesn't bother you that I like to take care of you.”

“It doesn't,” Chanhee says, tangling their fingers together as he sips his drink. Friday mornings are all too easy, because they both share a singular afternoon class. “I promise, it doesn't. I just... I feel bad, you know? I'm your hyung, and I should be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

“Ah, I get what you mean,” Sunwoo says, “but I think it's nice that we take care of each other. Hyung, you’re one of the most naturally nurturing people I’ve ever met. Let some of that energy be reflected back at you, okay? I just want to help you”

“You really don’t have to,” Chanhee says. He doesn’t like doing this whole _talking about their feelings_ thing, and it makes his skin prickle with awkwardness. “I can take care of myself.”

His boyfriend considers him for a moment. “Hyung, when are you gonna learn that there’s nothing weak about leaning on someone every so often?”

Chanhee looks away. “It’s not that,” he starts.

“It _is_ that, actually,” Sunwoo says. “It’s your pride and some weird belief that since you get migraines, you should somehow be stronger than the rest of us. And I don’t even say this to be rude, hyung. But you needing help from me every so often—even if it’s just me making you food when your head hurts and you’re busy overworking yourself—that’s not you being weak. It’s you acknowledging that sometimes, you need your stupid boyfriend to be useful.”

Chanhee laughs dryly. “Okay, when you word it like that…”

“Makes more sense, doesn’t it?” Sunwoo snickers. “Ah, hyung. We’ll work on it. For now, I’m gonna keep being annoying and caring about you, okay? These two should go hand in hand, I think.”

If Chanhee wasn’t horrifically averse to public displays of affection, he’d lean over to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek. As it stands, he squeezes his hand carefully in his instead. “They should,” he says. “You’re pretty damn good at that.”

“Pretty damn good at loving you?” Sunwoo hums. “Yeah, I think so.”

“This is too cheesy,” Chanhee mutters, and then he brightens up. “Hey. We should discuss what I’m gonna have you do as your promise to me. Remember? You said you’d do anything for me for a day?”

Sunwoo doesn’t respond. When Chanhee looks, he’s paled a considerable amount. “...Oh, god.”

“My name’s Chanhee, actually,” he teases, and spends the rest of the walk home in high spirits, flustering Sunwoo to no end.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked it! please feel free to comment your thoughts about how migraines are Experienced, if you have them (obvs used some of my own experiences), and in general comments + kudos ++ any kind of positive feedback is always, always appreciated.
> 
> hmu!! [main twitter](https://twitter.com/plutoghosts) \+ [priv twitter](https://twitter.com/_theIovers) (this is where i actually exist) + [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/piscesgyu)


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